The Road to Improvement
by DrizztDo'UrdenNeverDies
Summary: Louise knows that people don't change. She certainly hasn't in any good ways. But some people do, she finds, when in an attempt to help her, Linda invites a certain annoying someone to spend a month in the Belcher household. He's quite the gentleman, now. Rated T for attempted suicide and adult relations. No lemons, though. Also, smoking and drinking.
1. Chapter 1

Louise Belcher looked at the tile floor of her family's bathroom. Then she looked to the ceiling. Who was she again? Why did she do what she did? She looked back down at her hands and the sharp blade in them, one of her dad's prized kitchen knives, remembering. The sarcasm and the impishness, the cheap jokes and violence that was her nature, it was just to keep herself safe. Was there any other way? All those fools exposing themselves like... like they want to get hurt. She just couldn't take that kind of pain. She didn't want to, anyway. It would be so easy, to take the knife and clip her throat with it, to cut open her wrists. To end it all.

She was already a disappointment to her family, anyway. Everyone had these preconceived ideas about who she would grow up to be, the drunk, the stoner, the divorcee. At eleven, she still hadn't figured out how to shake off all these impressions and theories, when really, she hadn't even decided on what she wanted to do with her life yet, much less who she wanted to be. She just wanted to not do this whole thing anymore, this terrible life, her terrible self, she didn't want to be her anymore. She wanted to be someone who could talk to people and care about them, not just be a void of emotions that fell through when she need them. Her first crush she had wanted to slap for goodness sakes! She threw her hands up to her eyes to cover the tears that had started leaking out, dropping the knife with a loud metallic clang in the process. A loud whimper escaped her lips, and then another, as the tears began to fall and the sobs racked her body. She heard a knock at the bathroom door and her mom's tentative call.

"Louise? You good baby?" Panic strattled her heart. She couldn't have her mom finding her with a knife! The reasons for her being in the bathroom with it would be all too obvious. "I hear you crying in there!" Her mom called out again, sounding more frantic. "Baby, we're looking for your dad's missing knife!"

"I'm fine, there are no knifes in here, mom!" She tried to yell through the door, but only succeeded in sounding so fake and creaky and sad.

The door opened. Her mother stood, frozen from horror, in the doorway, the light haloing her like an angel.

"My baby! Are you okay, what happened?" Her mom cried out after a second of staring.

"I'm okay," Louise said, cursing her inability to express her emotions appropriately.

"For some reason I don't believe you. Bob, I found your knife!" Her mom shouted at the top of her lungs. Linda had always had the vocal cords of an opera singer.

Her dad appeared in the doorway a moment later, and gasped.

"Louise?" He asked her, seeming to not quite being able to process the sight in front of him.

Finally, for some reason beyond all reason, as often happens in desperate scenarios, Louise found her voice.

"I'm so sad all the time and everyone hates me. I want to die!" She shouted, and it felt so good to say it out loud for once. Like a cleansing measure. The tears kept pouring out of her eyes, down her face, and into her hands.

"Oh, baby, oh, my poor baby, I promise you, we'll get you some help. Whatever you need. And I promise no one hates you." Her mom said, her eyes wide and honest, wrapping her hands around Louise, who seemed so small now.

"Okay," she sniffed. Maybe this would all turn out okay.

It had been five years since that night, exactly. It was one of the few dates that Louise could remember with perfect clarity, as it stuck out in her mind like the sun stuck out in the sky. Not much had changed since then. She had gone to the hospital a few different times for "mysterious" cut wounds, but almost everyone close to the Belchers but Teddy had figured out that Louise was sympathy worthy, a.k.a depressive, "a disaster waiting to happen," if you thought she couldn't hear, or if you were Jimmy Pesto "a would-be Kurt Cobain." The comments really didn't bother her as much as they should have, but what was the point in caring about that kind of thing when you were already overflowing with hatred of yourself? Her mom and dad had tried near everything to fix her mind, or at least make her feel better when she was having an episode, but nothing had really worked yet. Not even rehab had made much of an indent on her. If anything, it had made her want to die more. The various landrylist of meds had definitely helped her mood, but most of the side effects had changed her mind for the worse in other ways, one of the worse side effect was causing something her psychiatrist had called "manic episode." It was nasty, because she couldn't stop her mood swings, or working on things when she wanted too. It was like being high, but more productive. She felt invisible, but at the same time so vulnerable.

She still wore her bubblegum bunny ears everywhere, even though she was sixteen, because everyone who knew her accepted by now, and she enjoyed getting mystified looks from those who didn't passing her on the street. Tricking people had not lost it's joy for her, and she had found a new one in reading. Though before she discovered that Game of Thrones had come from a book series, she had disliked it quite a bit, but after reading the whole series in two weeks, absorbing word after precious word like they would never end, she began to see the beauty in escaping reality so easily. A book was a shield you could take anywhere, and it could protect you from almost anything, unlike television shows.

"Louise! Are you up yet?!" Her mother called from presumably the kitchen/dinning room of their small apartment. Louise didn't want to respond. She wanted to stay in bed all day and fade away, but that wasn't exactly something she could do. So she just yelled back to her mom.

"I'm coming!" She yelled without sitting up. She wanted to stay here for as long as possible. Blankets don't think you're a charity case just because you're sad all the time and couldn't say you would mind if you were to die. They surrounded you with warmth even when inside you were cold and numb and they didn't get you up before you were ready to, they don't make fun of you behind your back while pretending to feel bad for you. They don't hurt you when you're already bleeding. Louise wrenched herself up from their grasp, feeling the warmth leave her body slowly. Her small feet hit the floor with a light thud and she groaned, regretting her choice to get up. She, in theory, had to get to school, but she really couldn't find herself caring if she were to be late. She didn't have any friends except Gene and Tina, who were both away at college. Most of her teachers, including Mr. Frond, had given up on taming her a few years ago, when she had a mental breakdown at school and started threatening to kill people in their sleep. Thank goodness for being a minor. She could have pled insanity anyway, but that seems so cheap, you know? She got away with a warning and a two hundred dollar fine.

Louise walked slowly, trying to forget things before they happened. It was an odd practice, but sometimes it worked. She opened her bedroom door, praying that this was a dream. There wasn't the usual relief of a stubborn fog that clouded her mind in one, but she liked to believe that sometimes, things would get better. Sadly, she couldn't trick herself. Life was Hell. She arrived at the kitchen table with a perplexed look on her face that one could only describe as "utter discontent." Her mom frowned, but didn't say anything, just putting a pancake on the plate that sat in front of the spot where Louise had sat down. Louise started on it almost instantly, hoping that it gave the illusion that she was actually hungry. Linda sat down at the seat across the table from her younger daughter, suddenly smiling.

"So, honey, I have a new idea to help you..." Her mom said, trailing off, but still smiling. The caught Louise's attention and she stopped eating for a second, a little bit of hope sparked for the first time in a few months.

"What is it?" Louise asked, wanting to have a grounds for the spark.

"So you might not like it very much, but I've invited your old buddy Logan to spend next month with us. He always seemed to get a reaction out of you, so it might get something, anything, better than this statue state you've found yourself in."

Louise froze. She took a small, tense breath. "You what?" She asked, trying to believe she misheard her mom.

"Logan, you know, the one you threatened to cut off of the ears of?" She nodded. "Are you angry?" Her mom asked, her voice higher than normal.

"Whatever. I'll deal with him." Louise sighed, resting her head in her hands. Her mom nodded and walked away silently, seeming the least bit defeated. She wanted to be angry with her mom, angry with Logan, but there was no anger left within her to be pointed at anyone but herself. She trudged off, once she had finished half the pancake, to go get ready for school.

"Hey Bob!" A blonde head pushed itself past the glass door and into the restaurant.

"Oh, uh, hey Logan. Louise is in the storeroom getting lettuce. I don't know if you need her right now, but-" Bob said, smiling slightly.

"I don't. I mean, uh, I'll wait, I guess." Logan said, stumbling over to the counter and sitting down at one of the stools. He still wasn't exactly sure why he was here, Linda had just called him one day, pleading him to come down to the restaurant and help Louise with something. He was in it for the cash, the five hundred dollars in it that Linda had promised him. Also, whatever this was would probably look good on job applications. He was twenty two, and still unemployed. His mom, needless to say, wasn't happy. Suddenly, Louise appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, her attention focused on her dad rather than the tall blonde boy - man, she guessed, now - that was sitting by him.

"Oh, hey Louise, Logan's here."

"Oh, hey, dad, I don't care. I got the lettuce." She sounded desensitized. Her dad thanked her and walked past her to the kitchen. She turned to leave, but Logan stopped her with a question.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, sounding more insensitive than he meant.

She turned back around, rolling her eyes. "I'm surprised mom didn't tell you. She's told the world, because apparently I'm depressed. Yeah, whatever, don't feel bad. I've got that part down."

Logan looked at her oddly. "Why aren't you, like, attacking me?"

"It doesn't matter." Louise said, her voice never breaking. "Just enjoy it."

"You've never told me, ever, to enjoy myself. This is unsettling, Louise! Just, like, punch me or something!" Logan yelled, losing his cool. He was getting pretty freaked out.

"No, I don't want to." Her voice was void of everything, rage, fury, pleasure, even sadness.

"What kinda meds are you on?!" He screamed, flinging himself out of his chair.

"Nothing, I just don't feel like it, okay?" She said calmly, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, pleading to the sky that he wouldn't see the small tear that had escaped. When she said that, Logan calmed down a little bit, but his gaze intensified a little bit. If she had bothered to look at him, she would have seen the concentrated worry in his eyes that had never been there before. He took a few steps toward her.

"Why don't you feel like it?" He asked, his voice as soft as an angel's feather.

She looked him straight in the eyes, but there was nothing there, not a single visible emotion. Somewhere, buried deep, you could've found a sadness that seemed to hold her together, but Logan couldn't get that deep. "Because I don't care." This made him freeze in his slow advance, like a deer in the headlights. Now it was Louise walking towards him, not slow or cautious at all. She walked like it was a threat, like maybe she wanted to be public enemy number one because it would make her job a little bit easier. Once she got close enough for him to hear her, she whispered, "I don't care because it doesn't really matter, does it? I don't really matter. You might be my nemesis, the super villain of the century, but we're all gonna die sometime. I've wanted to speed up that process for the longest time, but it doesn't happen because I'm a coward."

"Thank God for cowards," was all Logan said, and Louise seemed to understand.

"No," she said simply, shaking her head. "No, I'm a loose screw. I know, Cynthia probably would hate it. I know my mom said we'd meet each other twenty years from when she first saw us together and we'd get married and live life like nobody was watching, but it won't happen. I'll be dead and gone long before that happens."

"But Louise, I'm seeing you now, and now, you're beautiful. I know we were messed up kids, but look at you now..." He trailed off, gazing at her with a regret she couldn't understand.

"I'm only sixteen, shove off."

"I can wait. Just let me get to know you again, please, Louise!" He begged her, and she half thought that he was going to get down on his hands and knees. She looked a little taken aback, but after a second a smirk flashed across her face. Logan looked startled, then he broke out smiling. "I got you to have an expression on your face!" He cheered, giggling like a small child.

Louise smiled a little bit at how much he was laughing, but it faded away quickly. It did, however, occur to her that maybe her mom had something other than wine in her head when she asked this favor of Logan.


	2. Chapter 2

Louise sat in her bed the next morning, surrounded by the softness of blankets, wishing someone would come knock on her door and tell her they loved her. The blankets loved her, because every too-late-to-be-healthy night and every earlier-than-dad morning, they hugged her through all of them, got her through the midnight pains that caused the one a.m. thoughts that poly-morphed into the two a.m. taking of her razor out of the bathroom. This was one of those days. She stared at the ceiling, thinking about all these things, all the reasons she was still alive. There was mom and dad. Her death would cause so much unrest in their family, and that would be bad for them. She really loved them, despite how she acted at various points in time, and didn't want bad things to happen to them. Second, she still had so much time left if she didn't die right now. Then again, there was nothing to do with it. She didn't have a hobby, didn't have anything she loved to do enough to keep going. Last and certainly the least, there was Logan. He... had obviously grown quite a lot and become a different person. It fascinated her in some sense, and she wanted to figure out who exactly he was now. He seemed like he was so different, but at the same time he was still the boy/man who had stolen her precious hat. It was curious. Maybe there was a reason to get up today, maybe there was a reason somewhere hidden not to die.

Louise got up, walking like a drunk from sleepiness, and made her way, from her room, to stand in front of the bathroom mirror. She took in her messy black hair and cold eyes. They stared at her from some misty reverse world, and she could almost imagine in that world she was in love with someone, and she was peaceful and happy. She snorted at the thought, then took two ponytail holders out of her drawer in the vanity. She tied up her hair into her classic pigtails carefully, slowly, making sure not to tug too hard or harm her hair. She walked back to her bedroom, quicker now, and put on her pink eared hat, then went to the kitchen table and plopped down, the cold air making her shiver slightly.

"Louise, can you get dressed? Logan will be here in a few minutes, we promised to feed him and keep him busy all day. Stupid Cynthia, can't care for her own son..." Her mom trailed off, muttering some half witted insults.

"What does it matter, I mean it's not like he's gotten bad for me or something? I don't really feel like it."

"Louise, go!"

"Fine," she said, sighing. She pushed out her chair and stood up abruptly, waling to her room with a swagger.

Once her door was closed, she changed quickly, practically shoving a pair of jeans and a tank top on her body. She walked back out, her mind swarming with how all her flaws were overcoming her, how she wouldn't be good enough, she wasn't fit enough to wear this tank top and these jeans show off too much of her butt. The only sign outside of her mind that something was wrong was the small sigh she let out and the slightly forlorn look that haunted her face.

"Better?" She asked, her voice pointed.

Linda nodded, but she still looked the littlest bit mad. "I don't like that tone, missy! You better fix it."

"Okay," Louise said, holding up her hands in front of her face. There was a loud knock on the door, though, so her mom didn't get a chance to ravage Louise anymore.

"Oh, that must be Logan!" Her mom said, walking out of the kitchen and down the steps. She opened the door with a bang. Louise rolled her eyes once her mom was gone from the room and walked over to the table, sitting down and stretching her legs across the two chairs that were adjacent to hers. She really didn't feel like being cordial to anyone today, much less Logan Berry Bush of all.

"And here's Louise," her mom finished talking, presenting her daughter like some kind of prize on a game show, with all the hand gestures.

"Hey, Louise," Logan said, waving his hand. She frowned at him and he cringed.

"I'm gonna be down helping Bob at the restaurant, so you two have fun!" Her mom said, smiling and winking at Louise. Louise glared at her.

Logan nodded, slowly, watching the interaction between the two women with an appropriate amount of cation. After Linda had left, he sat down at the one spot at the table that wasn't taken up by Louise's feet. He could guess she wasn't exactly having a good day. She stared at the floor, pointedly not making eye contact with him. That left him to feel weird, and he wanted her to like him. So, of course, he did the reasonable thing.

"You look like a hillbilly five year old." He said, smirking at her.

She looked at him, finally, and glared. "You look like you just had a carpet burn sex with someone and they decided they like sadism."

"At least I'm getting some!"

"Hey, I've got friends with benefits."

"I knew all your friends were after something else."

Louise glared at him, tears forming in her glistening eyes. "Of course I have friends who aren't after me," she said, suddenly sounding too serious. Her face stood like stone as she walked away, despite the water flowing down it.

"I'm sorry!" He cried out after her, but the only response he got was a small whimper he could barely hear as she closed her bedroom door. Looks like he had hit a nerve there.

Louise slammed her door, but unfortunately none of the doors in this goddamn house locked. She collapsed into her bed, letting the blankets surround and calm her. It wasn't her fault Gene and Tina were both at college. It wasn't her fault nobody liked her enough to spend time with her like a friend would. The most she had gotten out of someone who wasn't stuck with her for a very long period of time was a begrudging understanding, to a small extent, of who they both were. She wanted a cigarette, but in order to keep her very secret habit of smoking secret, she had a rule of no smoking where others could find you easily, such as in a room without a locking door. A few minutes of silence passed, but suddenly someone was knocking on her door.

"Louise?" Logan's disembodied voice asked, slightly muffled. "Can I come in?" She grunted a very rough yes. Or maybe it was a no. She couldn't say for sure, but Logan probably would have come in no matter what. "I'm sorry, Louise," he said earnestly, walking into her room. "I didn't mean that. I thought we were joking around," he said, sitting down on the edge of her bed, like a parent might when they were telling their child goodnight.

"I know, I should be sorry too. It was an overreaction, because I'm having one of my bad days. I just... I get all messed up in my mind because..." she sniffed, and a lone tear drifted lazily down her cheek. "I don't actually have friends. Nobody likes me enough. I'm sorry, I know it's going to be a very long month. God, why did you even do this? You, most of all people, know I'm a pain in the ass!" Louise sat up stiffly, but did not look him in the eyes.

"I did it because... Well, I wanted to see you again. It was certainly impulsive on my part, but I couldn't resist. I never can when it comes to you. I couldn't wait to torture you a little bit, but ever since I saw you, I could tell you've changed."

"I guess that's better than say, just wanting money. I'm sure my mom offered you quite a bundle, though. She's tired of me, I know." A little flash of softness appeared in her eyes for a split second. "Hey, guess what."

"What?"

"My mom thinks that Cynthia is a terrible parent," Louise said, feeling a little twinge in her gut, not being used to gossip. She didn't usually have anything to gossip about.

Logan laughed softly. "I think I can agree with that. She basically didn't raise me, and is now confused on why I only come home on birthdays and holidays." He rolled his eyes. Louise felt herself nearly smile. "Hey, guess what," he said, grinning.

"What?" Louise crossed her arms.

"There's this party next Friday night, and I got Linda to agree to let us go."

Louise sat with her mouth half open. "Mom never lets me go to parties."

"I convinced her it would be good for you to get out of the house," he said, smirking proudly. Louise leaned over and grabbed him tightly, latching onto the back of his button down shirt, squeezing his back. She closed her eyes before whispering to him.

"Two years," she said, almost sounding sad. He smiled, hugging her back.

The few days left between then and Friday passed with the utter slowness of a turtle trying to find something. A very methodical turtle. Louise had ups and downs, but it mostly her, praying she was stable enough for Friday. As of Tuesday, she had just come off of a three week episode, and maybe it could hold off for awhile before coming back. School was terrible, but that was typical. She barely even noticed the twinges in her brain now, the teasing and slightly afraid glances thrown her way didn't even bother her. She had to get somewhere, and that somewhere was Friday. Everyday she came home, she went to her room in a hurry. So fast not even her mom had a chance to catch her, and she dreamed. She spent hours upon hours stuck in a world that was all her own, just laying, spellbound, on her bed, imagining all the different ways that this could go. Nothing interesting happened during the day anyway, nothing that could compare to her dreams.

Louise was a very cynical person. She didn't have a typical dream, where at the end of the night Logan would sweep her away to some hotel and they'd duke it out on a bed. No, Louise's fantasy had much more to do with something terrible happening, a super villain attack, a zombie apocalypse, etc. And then she would go and save the day, and Logan, in a very violent way. It was her own way of calming her mind, her sort of therapy. She'd been doing it for as long as she could remember, but it never ceased to calm her fears and lift her spirits.

Logan knocked on Louise's bedroom door, grinning.

"One second!" Louise called out through the wood of her door, and after a few seconds she opened the door and stepped out. Her black hair was curled and lay down, caressing her shoulders and framing her face. She was very close to grinning, her mouth just barely curled at the edges like a piece of paper being burnt. Her dress was short, it hit her about in the middle of her thigh. It was sleek and black, with a gold zipper that was barely visible under one arm. The only noticeable makeup on her face was a splash of scarlet lipstick that made you want to kiss her. But that might've just been Logan.

"I've never seen you in a dress," he teased, smiling at her and raising an eyebrow.

"You've never seen me try to look nice, then, which isn't surprising. And since we're being picky, I haven't seen you in a tux with your hair neat, either."

"Well, I guess it's not surprising you've never seen me on a date," he said, laughing as she glared at him and crossed her arms.

"Sixteen, perv," she said, her eyes lightening enough for him to know she wasn't upset. They walked to the top of the stairs, both of them eager to get going, but Linda stopped them before they could get very far.

"Were you gonna leave without saying anything, baby?" Linda asked. Logan noticed a disposable camera in her hand, and had a very bad, and by that he knew it was good, idea. Louise turned around, her eyes widening in horror.

"No," she said, laughing, but you could tell it was fake. "No, of course not. We were just about to tell you we're leaving. Bye now!" Louise shouted, trying to walk down the stairs, but Logan grabbed her arm before she could get very far.

"We can't let your mom not have pictures of us, Louise. I mean, you got so dressed up. You look very nice," Logan said, narrowing his eyes at her in amusement. She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Come on, get back here," he said, gently pulling her into his embrace. Her eyes widened as she realized where she was, but Linda just laughed, as if she knew Logan's gag.

"Okay, lemme get a picture," she said, quickly using all twenty five exposures on her camera of them at different angles. Logan made sure to smile brightly in all of them, but Louise just glared straight at the camera with the face of a girl who hates romance being forced to take fake date photos.

"Can we go? I think we're gonna be late," Louise said, looking for any possible out.

"She's right Linda, we've got a ways to go to get to the party," he said, winking at Louise. She just rolled her eyes, but barely held back laughter.

"Oh, okay. Well, have fun on your date!" Linda cried as they walked down the stairs. Just before they left the house, Louise shouted back at her.

"Sixteen, mom!" Logan laughed, and eventually Louise found herself laughing too, at the absurdity of it all.

They stepped out on to the sidewalk to witness the beginning of the night, with all it's warmth and promises of happiness in the following hours.


	3. Chapter 3

I sit alone in the bathroom, but this time I do not hold a knife. I'm crying anyway. The pure whiteness terrifies me in a way I cannot begin to explain, and I am so useless. All I have done today is crawl out of bed and sit in the bathroom, and that is what anyone not sugar coating it would call a stupid useless mess. I want to carve things into the tile floor with a knife, things that are words that don't scare me as much as they should.

I carve them into the air instead.

"I am not okay, I'm sick. I've hit rock bottom, and why did he say I was beautiful when I am so clearly not," I whisper to the ground. It's the only one listening, anyway. I lay down, pressing my cheek to the cool surface of the floor and smile. It feels wooden and hollow, like my heart. "But I'll live. I'm too dead to do anything to myself, and I know when Logan gets here he'll drag me from the bottom. Maybe I won't see him today, though. Maybe he went home and thought about all the things he said to me, and he reconsidered everything. Maybe he's calling mom right now, and telling her he won't talk to me again. Maybe he's getting the Hell out of town because what else would he do after spending this much time with me?"

I sigh again, relaxing. I am prepared for this fate.

Footsteps, Linda's, tap lightly up to the door. I've been laying here for almost the whole day.

"Honey, Logan's been waiting to see you."

"Go away." She's lying.

Her light footsteps tap tap tap away and I am left alone, laying on the floor by myself again. I let out a sigh of relief. A second later, though, I hear more, unfamiliar footsteps. I don't wanna talk until I hear a voice that strikes a chord with me the same way an angel's would a priest.

"Louise? You're not having a great day, are you?" It's not a question, but I answer anyway. I can't seem to help myself.

"Nope, I'm not coming out of here until everyone else is asleep."

"I'm coming in, then." Before I can tell Logan to leave, he opens the door and steps in, closing the door behind him softly. "So, if you're not feeling good, how are you feeling?"

"I feel like a giant stepped on me and then as I was recovering, someone came and told me an awful secret about myself that I didn't know and it sapped all my will."

"I'm sorry," he says quietly and looks at me. I look up at him from my spot laying on the floor. He sits down next to my head and I sigh.

"I thought you weren't coming back," I say, my eyes traveling back to the ceiling. I hate being so honest, especially about my feelings, but I have to know what his intentions are.

"Why?"

"The party last night... all the wonderful things you said to me. And I just-" My voice breaks and I feel tears in my eyes. I blink them away. "I just ran away. I went home and I cried."

"I'm sor-"

"Not your fault, man. Do you even know who I am?"

He giggles. I glance at him. He's really giggling, like a schoolgirl, hand up to his face, blushing and all that. I just stare at him.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because, you just asked me, Logan Berry Bush, if I know who Louise Belcher is."

"You told me I was a star that fell to Earth and that I have a beautiful voice. There's obviously something you don't know about me that has caused you to come to these conclusions. I once threatened to murder you, you know." I think I need to school him about who exactly I am.

Logan giggles once more and looks at me with his eye brows furrowed, a sudden wave of seriousness engulfing his face - and hopefully mind. "I know who you are Louise," he says, and I roll my eyes. "You're the little girl who once told me I was an asshole because I asked your dad for a job. You're the ten year old who burned my mom's tulips because she slapped your mother. You're the girl who, on her thirteenth birthday, asked me if I would go walk into the water with rocks in my pockets because she "needed something uplifting to happen." You're the one who once sat outside my window, throwing pebbles at it because she wanted to make me think that the girl I told I liked the other day was about to _Say Anything_ me. You, however, are also so much more than what you've done to me. You're the fifteen year old who lied for Gene so that he could spend a night with his boyfriend. You're the woman whom last month ran the restaurant for a week so your parents could fall back in love. You're the sixteen year old that, last night, waited for me all the ten minutes I spent crying in the bathroom because I saw one of my exs with her boyfriend. I told you last night that you are beautiful because you are. And I'll tell you that every day if that's what it takes for you to believe me. I don't care. It's true." I find my cheeks to be wet, and I let the tears keep rolling. I don't want to think that someone cares this much about me, because it means I have to try, and trying is so hard. But I have to, I think.

I pry my limp body off the ground and smile hollowly at Logan. I whisper a hoarse thank you and he pulls me into a tight hug. I'm still so hurt, for that multitude of reasons that continually flood my senses, but maybe now I can try to heal. I slither out of his grasp so I can properly look him in the face and talk to him.

"I want to stick with friends to enemies to friends again, til the end. No matter what happens to us, promise me I'll never lose contact with you." Logan nods and opens his mouth, but I shush him. "I want to get to know you better too, because I haven't given you chicken shit in the last few years and I've forgotten everything I ever knew about you other than that I used to hate you," I say, not ready to smile again. "It's really hard for me to be this honest with anyone, especially someone that I..." I breathe in and out so I don't freak myself out. "I care about, so don't... don't expect this often."

Logan nods one last time and smiles at me. It reminds me of the sun.

"Thank you, Louise. I'll try to tell you about who I am. I can even start now, If you don't mind," he says, and I nod without really thinking about it. I truly want to know everything about him.

"I was born in 1996, and the first word I ever said was "bunny." I knew a lot words from my old nanny reading me her textbooks from college, but none of them particularly stuck with me. Until I saw a rabbit, and the word bunny just clicked and it came out of my mouth. My nanny was so happy she cried, and when Cynthia heard that I had spoken she demanded me to do so once more in her presence. I didn't, because I was one or two years old, and I still didn't really consider her my mother. She was always at parties or something, I guess." Logan's voice trailed on and on, talking to me about where he had moved to around age 10 and how he had moved back, and what Cynthia had done for his birthday one year to try and win his affection back after she left him for a day in an alley on accident. It might have lulled me into sleep if I wasn't so involved with getting to know him. The only thing I can think as he finishes is that I love the sound of his voice more than almost anything I have ever heard before. But I'm not about to tell him that.

We sit on the floor of the bathroom for the rest of the day, talking about our histories. It's better than the rest of life, so I suppose this is a day I can say that I want to live.


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm only sixteen, perv!" Louise squealed, her cheeks bright red. She walked down the pier next to Logan, who smirked at her.

"Hey, M'lady, I only have to wait two years. It's not that long," Logan answered, knocking her arm with his elbow and wiggling his eyebrows. Louise laughed again and looked out across the ocean, admiring the way the light hit the waves as they rose up and down.

"Two years, I'll be out of this town and in college!"

"College? I can just follow you, if you even go." Louise glared him and stuck her tongue out, ignoring a pang in her heart. He had hit a nerve.

"Yeah, well that's not possible if I don't tell you where I'm going."

"Yeah, well I could ask Linda."

"Yeah, well then I'll key your car."

"Yeah, well I'll buy a new car."

"I'll key that one too!"

"I'll buy five new cars and fut barbed wire fences around all of them!"

"I'll get a blowtorch, melt the fences, then melt the cars."

"I'll sue you!"

"I'll get someone else to do it!"

"I'll get you as an accomplice!"

"I'll just chain you to a chair, then!" Louise screamed, getting looks from all the passerby.

"Oh, really?" Logan whispered to her, leaning in closer than necessary. "And what would you do while I was held down, darling?" Louise jerked back from him, and slapped him.

"Pervert."

"It's not perverted, because you would be eighteen," he reasons, smiling at Louise.

"It is if I tied you up now," she spat back, walking quicker. He didn't speed up, just crossed his arms and sighed happily.

Louise fumed on ahead, muttering softly, so no one could hear, under her breath. She would've thought Logan's constant sex jokes were funny, if only they weren't directed at her all of the time. Just once, she'd like to find someone, lead Logan to them and make him make a sex joke about them to their face. It would be even better if he actually wanted to have a romantic relationship with them. Unfortunately, Logan was a smart individual who knew Louise too well for that.

Louise kept walking faster than Logan, making sure not to leave him in the dust, but also making sure she wasn't close enough to talk to him. She checked her watch. It was four p.m. and they were just getting down to the beach, as they had made it back from the edge of the pier and down the rocks that led to the beach. They had about two hours until Linda would want them back home. Ugh. Two more hours with Logan. She hadn't felt this kind of resistance towards something since she had been asked by her father to cut up lettuce instead of raw meat. That was just criminal, but also five years ago, before much of the situation that had caused Logan to come into her life had happened, so she supposed this is exactly what Linda was aiming for. Making her feel things.

"Louise!" His voice called out from behind her, and she huffed, but kept walking. "Louise, let me say sorry, okay?" She didn't stop. She heard the sand crunching slightly louder behind her, and sighed. This interaction was happening no matter what.

"Logan," she said, trying not to grind her teeth.

"Louise, do you want me to stop making those kind of jokes?" He asked, looking more sincere than she cared to appreciate. She nodded. "Okay, I will."

They walked together once more, shoulder to shoulder. After about five minutes, Louise was uncomfortable with their comfortable silence.

"Logan," she said, but it wasn't cold and angry like before. "What do you want to do with your life?" He looked at her, mystified.

"I don't know yet... I got a degree in business, but I don't even know what to do with that. I thought about becoming a fashion designer once, but that seems so out of reach. When I was little I wanted to be a firefighter like all the other blonde haired boys in my kindergarten class, but I don't have that kind of courage in me. I hate fire, too."

"I honestly always thought you wanted to be a chef."

"It's been a recent passing dream of mine, but I don't know anyone who would teach me that kind of thin-" Louise slapped him for the second time that day.

"Berry Bush, do you realize who exactly you're talking to?" Logan's eyes narrowed for a minute, but suddenly, after Louise frowned at him for just as long, he looked like he felt dumb.

"Oh my God, you're the heiress to a restaurant!"

"I wouldn't go that far, but I sorta know a guy." She smirked.

"Are you offering to spend more time with me?" Her face fell.

"No! But dad already likes you, I'm sure he would teach you and you could see if that was a real opportunity." Logan nodded.

"I'd like that, if you don't mind." Louise looked away from him, towards the water, to hide her growing redness of cheek.

"I wouldn't mind one bit."

They walked for the remainder of their time together along the shore, occasionally talking about one thing or another. Their silences weren't forced, and neither was their conversation. It flowed like water into the ocean, naturally and the way it was supposed to without effort. The sun began to set, and Louise checked her phone again, frowning.

"We'll have to start walking back now. It's already five fifty." Logan nodded. Before following Louise off the beach, however, he took one last long look at the sunset. It was red and orange, with veins of pink. It reminded him of something, but he couldn't put a finger on what exactly. Ah, it would come to him in time, he thought, and started to follow Louise.

That night, Louise lay down on her bed, smiling at the ceiling. She was strangely happy, and she didn't know whether to be frightened or not. There was good chance this was the eye of the storm. Tomorrow she would be on the ground again, crying out, but for tonight she could be happy. It sort of frightened her, but at the same time didn't that mean she was getting closer to being on the other side? And that meant she was getting closer to being able to do things again, closer to not having people look at her with tears in her eyes, telling lies about how much they had liked her before. She could be her own person, her own thing. She could live a life that was hers and hers alone. She fell asleep to the beat of her dreams about what she would do when she could.


End file.
